


Every Morn and Every Night

by dragonspell



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: He and Dante have found a solution to V’s draining strength, but they both know that it is only temporary—just like everything else in this world, Dante supposes.  Some more than most.  See, thing is, V has almost bit it once or twice already and they haven’t even made it to the big showdown yet.  He’d crumpled in Dante’s office just laying out the play by play which is how they stumbled into their little solution.  Because the moment that Dante had touched V, V had looked up at him like he was salvation given flesh and dragged him down for a desperate, soul-sucking kiss.  Damn near literally.  Dante had gotten the feeling that V was trying hard to borrow a part of Dante’s soul to make up for the loss of his own.  That kiss had been something else.  Dante’s eyes had been wide open going into this whole arrangement and he hadn’t been exactly unhappy about it.  Bemused, maybe, because, yeah, V’s a different person, but he’s still technically a part of Dante’s twin brother.  In the end, however, Dante figures that, hey, he’s done weirder things.(Or an excuse for Dante/V porn.  Dante helps "charge" V).





	Every Morn and Every Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Entropyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entropyrose/gifts).



> For Entropy Rose. Because she asked.

Dante knows who this is. He’d been fooled at first glance, but not for long. This man can change his name, change his hair, change his _face_ but Dante will always be able to recognize him. It’s not all of Vergil, just the half of himself that he cut away, discarded like trash in his never-ending quest for power, but it’s close enough. It’s all so cliché that Dante could laugh if he wasn’t so amazed at the lengths that Vergil will go to. Vergil cut out his own beating heart in exchange for power.

V isn’t a whole person. He’s a withering, half-souled creature that only has so much time before he becomes dust blowing down the street. He’s as strong-willed as Vergil has ever been but his body will only take so much. Urizen took the physical strength and left V with little else besides a knack for the dramatic and poetry.

How much time V has left is anyone’s guess. He’s dying quick, time draining away like sand in a hourglass, but it’s up to him to say how much he will stand before giving in entirely. He’s held together by sheer willpower and the last lingering dregs of Vergil’s soul. 

Together, he and Dante have found a solution to V’s draining strength, but they both know that it is only temporary—just like everything else in this world, Dante supposes. Some more than most. See, thing is, V has almost bit it once or twice already and they haven’t even made it to the big showdown yet. 

He’d crumpled in Dante’s office just laying out the play by play which is how they stumbled into their little solution. Because the moment that Dante had touched V, V had looked up at him like he was salvation given flesh and dragged him down for a desperate, soul-sucking kiss. Damn near literally. Dante had gotten the feeling that V was trying hard to borrow a part of Dante’s soul to make up for the loss of his own.

Didn’t work, of course. What V’s craving isn’t Dante’s soul but his own. 

That kiss, though. That kiss had been something else. Dante’s eyes had been wide open going into this whole arrangement and he hadn’t been exactly unhappy about it. Bemused, maybe, because, yeah, V’s a different person, but he’s still technically a part of Dante’s twin brother. In the end, however, Dante figures that, hey, he’s done weirder things.

In fact, there’s this one spider that…

“ _The Questioner who sits so sly_ ,” V recites, his voice a low rasp. He has, Dante has found, the entire poem memorized. Can recite the damn thing even with his mind focused on other things. “ _Shall never know how to reply / He who replies to words of Doubt / Doth put the Light of Knowledge out..._ ” How the poetry works, Dante doesn’t know, but it helps V to be V and Dante’s put up with enough oddities in his life not to be bothered by this one. 

V’s fingers claw at Dante’s back, fingers digging into his skin and dragging downward. Pain and pleasure mix into one and if this gets any hotter, Dante’s going to combust. He already feels on the verge of a devil trigger, like it is being dragged out of him to charge up V. V tosses his head back, his eyes closing as he tries to deal with the sensations currently rocking his body. Underneath Dante, he writhes against the bed, frail frame bucking upwards to press against Dante’s heat. 

Dante studies V’s face, watching the minute twitches, the snarls and the sighs, and presses a kiss to V’s jaw line. He likes watching V on the verge of orgasm and he doesn’t know if he is supposed to feel guilty about that or not. V is not his brother but yet he is. That might mean something, but Dante doesn’t think he cares either way.

Dante can’t share his soul with V but he can share his energy, just a small bit of power to keep V’s body going a little longer. He’ll do what he needs to. And the delivery method isn’t exactly a hardship.

Even scrawny and weak, V is still a sight to behold.

“ _If the Sun and Moon should Doubt / They’d immediately go out..._ ” V gasps, sucking in a lungful of air, and flutters his eyes open. “Almost...” he whispers, then shoves a hand between them, reaching down to bring himself off.

“Yeah?” Dante asks and speeds up, wanting to push V over that particular cliff again just so Dante can watch. V doesn’t have to come. That’s just a side benefit.

Emotional health, maybe. Mental well-being. Dante can make up any bullshit in the world to justify his need to see V’s face twist in pleasure. Lucky for him, though, he doesn’t have to. The only one that might question him is V and right now they are on the same page. Neither of them feel much like justifying anything.

V’s body tightens underneath Dante, his lip curling upward to show his clenched teeth as he starts to shudder. “There is it,” Dante says. There it fucking is. V is hot an tight around him, and Dante finally lets himself have some slack in the short leash he’s been keeping himself on. Chasing his own needs instead of V’s now, he goes harder, faster, looking to reach that high. He’s still teethered—can’t forget that V, for all that he came from Vergil’s body, is human—but it’s a much longer lead.

V’s thin fingers spider across Dante’s bare shoulders to his face. They reach up into Dante’s hair to clench down and pull gently. “Oh, yeah...” Dante rasps. “Yeah, keep it up.” He wraps a hand around the underside of V’s left thigh and hauls it upward to go deeper, curling himself over V’s body.

“ _Every Night and every Morn,_ ” V whispers in Dante’s ear, fingers still twined in his hair, “ _Some to Misery are Born / Every Morn and every Night / Some are Born to sweet delight._ ”

Dante has no idea what the hell any of that means, but he likes hearing it in V’s rasping voice. The man could recite a telephone book for all Dante cares. It’s enough to push him over.

Pleasure snaps Dante’s spine straight and makes him momentarily blind. Beneath him, V sighs as he soaks in the released energy. His hands release their grip on Dante’s hair, turning into soothing pets. Dante kisses his way across V’s face until he reaches his mouth. The kiss ends V’s soft recital of lines. With enough of a charge racing through his body and keeping him whole, V gives himself over to the kiss, not needing the poetry for the moment.

For a long moment, there is nothing but them, joined together, until Dante breaks the kiss. “Good?” he asks as he withdraws. V nods slowly and stretches his arms out to the side.

“For the moment,” he replies.

“Good enough.” Dante flops down beside V on the bed, content to be lazy. V sits up and eyes him. Dante wonders if he is contemplating stabbing Dante through the heart like Vergil would.

Like everything else so far, Dante doesn’t mind if he is. The man is half-Vergil, after all. Can’t fight nature.

“Time to be going,” V says finally and slips off the bed.

“So soon?” Stay or go, Dante doesn’t care. If V were to stay, they could probably have another round. If he were to leave, though, Dante could catch a quick nap—something that no matter what else they are doing on this bed, Dante doesn’t think that he would be able to do with V here. There is trust and then there is _trust_. Human half or not, V is still half-Vergil.

V cracks a smile, his lips lifting on only one side of his face. “Time waits for no man.”

“That it doesn’t,” Dante replies and folds his hands behind his head. “’Til next time, then.”

“If there is one.”

Oh, there will be. Dante will make sure of that.

He doesn’t know what that says about him, that he is fine with sleeping with half of his twin brother’s soul—more than fine—but he’s not going to think too hard on it.

_“We are led to Believe a Lie_  
_When we see not Thro the Eye_  
_Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night_  
_When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light_  
_God Appears & God is Light_  
_To those poor Souls who dwell in Night_  
_But does a Human Form Display_  
_To those who Dwell in Realms of day.”_

“Why that poem?” Dante asks. He knows that V has reached the end. He’s heard it enough times to have it half memorized himself.

“Why not?” V answers and Dante doesn’t have a good come back for that. He shrugs instead, ceding the point.

There’s a whisper and the shadows move and then V disappears, sliding out the door. Dante will see him again soon enough. Either V will need another fix or they will start this job, probably both.

Either way works just fine for Dante.


End file.
